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Don't die on me," she whispered when the clock struck midnight and he still had not moved. "It's only a little shoulder wound. Goddess, George-don't die on me." His eyes flickered open and he smiled. "I didn't know you cared," he whispered. "And why insult me? I won't die for a wee nick like this; I've had worse in my day." Alanna wiped her wet cheeks. "Of course I care, you unprincipled pickpocket!" she whispered. "Of course I care.

Tamora Pierce (2009). “In the Hand of the Goddess”, p.122, Simon and Schuster
Don't die on me, she whispered when the clock struck midnight and he still had not moved. It's only a little shoulder wound. Goddess, George-don't die on me. His eyes flickered open and he smiled. I didn't know you